A Letter to My White Friends and Family
Dear [insert name here],
I have found so much comfort from many of your texts, emails, and phone calls. Thank you. I am overwhelmed with gratitude by your thoughtfulness and I often just cry reading your messages. Specifically, to my white friends and family who have allowed these visible acts of violence to mobilize their empathy into actionable solidarity, again, I thank you. The grief and exhaustion I feel because of the recent murders of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor are indescribable. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus and I couldn’t find the words, until now.
For myself and for so many other black women, men and children in this country, “Black Lives Matter” is our literal experience every, single day. Our lives are this movement come to life. We endure racism, discrimination, bigotry and hate every, single day most of which aren’t captured on video. These traumatizing experiences happen to us while living our lives on airplanes, in our workplaces, in our yoga studios, and at the schools and universities we attend. They’ve happened at the grocery store where I was called a “nigger” and sometimes, we’re even murdered in our own homes like Breonna Taylor was. I repeat. Even if you don’t see them on video; they’re happening and have been happening for centuries. I can only imagine the indignation my slave ancestors would feel at the insulting notion that cell phones have “opened our eyes” to the institutional and systemic injustices and perpetual violence against black people in this country. This nation was founded on racism. It rings true from sea to shining sea. If it took violence being captured on video to open your eyes to the plight of Black America, then I really feel sorry for you. Perhaps your world is too small and your communities too homogeneous. Perhaps reflecting on why you have the privilege of disconnecting from the ugliness of racism may provide some insights.
I want to share that while I am not religious, this biblical scripture deeply resonates with me. I know that my path has led me to exactly where I should be in this moment.
“For if you remain silent at this time, relief or deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place…And who knows [why] you have come to your…position for such a time as this?”
-Esther 4:14
I will continue to use my platform as a black, female physician. I will continue to work tirelessly for the advancement of my people and for other communities of color. I will continue to advocate for health equity. I will continue to fight injustice every, single day both in my own life, for my community and for others. But, I can’t do it alone. Black people can’t do this alone. What about you? What will you decide to do? Will you join this fight? Either way, please know that if you remain silent, justice will rise from another place but certainly you may be where you are, right now, for such a time as this.
